fudge

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

I first published this post way, waaaay back in April 2011 which means it was one of the very first posts I wrote for Fudge.

I was browsing through FB just now (whilst looking sideways at my 'to do' list half hidden by my coffee cup on the table ...) and I saw this from Romina, a lovely (and inconceivably beautiful friend) who ventures far too rarely over to her blog these days.

Anyhow, it reminded me ...

THINGS happen to me!

Now, I'm not convinced (however many people tell me otherwise) that THINGS don't happen to other people too.

This new craze for self checkout in supermarkets for instance. Never yet has it given me the 'seamless shopping experience' it promises. Why does it talk to me if it doesn't want me to answer back? 'Unexpected item in bagging area' is the favourite! Why wasn't it expecting it? I just bloody scanned it didn't I? 'Please remove item from bagging area', which one? I have 12!!! ' Please wait for assistance', flashing lights, loud beeping, everyone's looking at me like I'm trying to make off with 3 bananas, a twin pack of loo roll and a packet of custard creams!

My children now prefer not to shop with me, it always ends in (my) tears but, unsuspecting friends still insist I use the self checkout despite my protestations, telling me its so quick, so easy, what can I say MORE FOOL THEM, they learn the hard way.

Sainsburys last week, 'friend' use the self checkout, 'me' no, 'friend' use the self checkout, 'me' noooo, 'friend' use the damn self check out will you, 'me' ok. Five items required three visits from the assistant with their magic swipe card and then, just when you would think nothing else could go wrong, I emptied the contents of my purse into the little change compartment (don't you love it when you do that and the total cost of your shopping is four pounds ninety eight, your change that you've poured in comes to four pounds eleven and you only have a ten pound note to pay the balance, you end up with more change than you were trying to get rid of!).

Anyway, I digress, this time, the machine happily swallowed my money but the screen still flashed, 'please insert coins or notes to the value of your shopping' It had EATEN my money! No flashing light, no beeping, no bloody call for assistance. I stood there jumping up and down waving my arms (my 'friend' long gone) until eventually I attracted the notice of an assistant. Followed lots of head scratching and 'are you sure you put the money in', Yeees. 'I'll just call someone else' and 'I think we need a supervisor' by which time I was hanging my head in shame.

Have you ever seen the inside workings of one of those machines? Fascinating! Ten minutes unlocking various bits, tracing the path my money should have taken, 'are you sure you put the money in', YEEES before finally, they located it. A further five minutes to put the machine back together and then, THEY EXPECTED ME TO DO IT ALL AGAIN!

Monday, 22 September 2014

And mellow fruitfulness, or, as Keats wrote to Reynolds from Winchester his letter dated 22nd of September 1819.

"How beautiful the season is now. How fine the air -- a temperate sharpness about it. Really, without joking, chaste weather -- Dian skies. I never liked stubble-fields so much as now -- aye, better than chilly green of the Spring. Somehow, a stubble plain looks warm, in the same way that some pictures look warm. This struck me so much in my Sunday's walk that I composed upon it."

Suggesting that this was when perhaps he wrote his Ode To Autumn.

My struggle with the end of Summer is tempered by the gentle days of September. Days filled with a unique light, wrapping my world in a hazy golden gauze, scenting the air with soft sea breezes, dark ripe berries dripping from hedges and a touch of wood smoke hanging in the air.

Much as I mourn the end of long summer nights, early sunrises and the feel of hot sun on my bare shoulders I am filled with energy and enthusiasm for the positive bounty of fruit that Autumn brings.

SD and I spent many hours picking plums on several occasions over the past few weeks and even then we barely made an impression on the old plum tree which seems to be having a final hurrah, every bough groaning under the weight and the path scattered with fallen fruit.

Altogether we picked around 15lb of plums (that's roughly 7kg in new money) about half of which is now in my freezer and the other half I made into jam

The apples on the Bramley tree have been dropping early for some reason, maybe the perfect weather conditions mean they have ripened early, I'm not sure but I picked up some windfalls the other day and wandered along the hedge in the field nearest to the farm and picked a few blackberries to go with them.

Just enough to make a couple of blackberry and apple crumbles, one for Big D and the lovely L and one for SD's parents. The real blackberry picking is yet to come and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for dry weather (which is forecast) this week so I can spend a couple of evenings getting scratched to pieces as I try to reach the biggest and the best of the fruit which is always just out of reach.

I love this time where the end of summer blends effortlessly into the beginning of Autumn. The days may be drawing in, the evenings a little chilly but there is still plenty of sunshine to be had and moments where we drop everything and take off for the beach. Yesterday that meant a trip to Charmouth in west Dorset which forms part of the Jurassic coast where we strolled along the beach to the Soft Rock Cafe and sat drinking coffee looking out to sea:

It also meant a wander around the tiny Rock Follies shop right on the beach which is filled with vintage clothes, a rack of canvas shoes in 'converse corner' and, amongst other things, this:

Absolutely, I concur :-)

I don't want the summer to be over but I just can't bring myself to regret September.

Friday, 19 September 2014

Yesterday afternoon SD and I walked into town for a coffee, it's something we often do, kind of like a 'date night' but without the dressing up or flash dinner ...

Hmmm ...

I like dressing up and flash dinners every now and then ...

Ok, I'm over it.

Anyway, how many flash restaurants would offer you a shot glass of Smarties with your coffee?

The other thing I like about The Shed is that they run a loyalty scheme. It's a family run business and they are so friendly and chatty as well as making great coffee and you can sit in the sun near the river and just chill out.

Every time you buy a coffee you can get them to stamp your card and then, when you have collected 6 stamps you get the 7th coffee free. It's just a small thing and we would go there anyway but it's a nice touch (just like the smarties).

The only thing is that SD and I keep losing the cards. Now for me that's nothing, I lose all sorts of things all the time which I think is pretty normal but other than these elusive cards SD rarely looses anything and it bugs the hell out of him.

On the way into town I asked if he had the card.

'Yep' he said pulling it out of his wallet.

'That cards only got 2 stamps on it' I pointed out, 'shouldn't we have more than that by now'?

'I've got another one at home with 4 on' he said, next time I'll bring it and we will get them transferred, '4 plus 2 equal 6 so we can have the free one then if you like'.

'4 plus 2 equals 6 ...? - you can tell you've spent all day in a school, I expect you've been absorbing all that knowledge by a process of osmosis or something ....'

'I'll have you know I have a brain like a small planet!' he replied indignantly.

SD pinched me - honestly, where did he learn to do that?? He doesn't even have any sisters!

Later we drove over to the farm, I'd thought we were all done with the plum picking although there are loads left on the tree it is very old and not very safe but SD wanted to give it one last shot rather than wasting them.

On the way we had to go around the new roundabout near my house. This roundabout and an adjoining new bridge across the river have been in construction for about a year now causing total chaos. The roundabout is HUGE, seriously, it's the size of a small country!

It's now at the stage where the construction is complete but so far the centre of it is just mud.

In the middle was a large mound of earth.

'You know what we should do' I said. We should sneak out at night and build a big mud castle in the middle of it, people would come from miles around, maybe even all over the world to marvel at this amazing construction that had just appeared overnight. It would be like a crop circle or something and nobody would know who had done it'.

'Except for several hundred people who would see you as they drove past ...'

So we got to the farm and this time I was determined that SD WAS going to get a photo of me up a ladder (Just to prove to Ann that it really DID happen) and I'd even worn a specially selected 'plum' outfit for the occasion!

I was really, REALLY high, at least 7 rungs up! ;-)

I told SD that you couldn't really tell how high up I was from that photo so he decided to take a couple more snaps, trying to get my 'best side' he said.

Want to see what he got??

The answer to that is probably NO, you didn't and yes, my bum is hanging out yet again!

But aren't you impressed that I colour coordinated my outfit to the task??

'Please don't wander off taking effing photos while I'm half way up a tree and you are supposed to be holding the bottom of the ladder ...'

AS IF!!

I mean, DURR, I KNOW that obviously ...

Honestly, you take 30 seconds for yourself to snap a pic of a dragonfly JUST THE ONCE and you're labelled for life!

So unfair ...

Now, as mentioned, the plums are a LITTLE over ripe, we've picked several buckets full already and my freezer is fast filling up and we still have the Bramleys and blackberries to pick (but that's probably another story ...).

I stood under that bloody tree being BOMBARDED by falling soft fruit as SD plucked away high above me.

I say SOFT in the loosest sense of the word you understand because in fact plums have a very bloody hard stone in the middle so you briefly get a soft splat of exploding mush before being hit by a really hard pointy rock and it HURTS!

SD thought HE had the worst of it being up a shaky ladder clinging on to a rather rickety old tree with branches liable to snap at any given moment and me being his only saviour holding the ladder steady but let me tell you:

HE HAD THE EASY JOB!

I was positively pelted with purple plum shaped missiles and totally covered in sticky sludge. I was not very happy ...

SD climbed onto the roof of the barn which left me free to hop off the bottom of the ladder and stand to the side of the barn and catch plums as he threw them to me.

I think my catching ratio was about 1:3 and I'm a GOOD catcher! It's almost impossible to see those bloody things hurling towards you especially as the light was just starting to fade. I'm pretty sure SD was aiming them AT me just for fun - you really don't want to know where I got plum juice!

'Catch' shouted SD and, as I looked up, a plum fell from the tree, rolled down the roof of the barn gathering speed like a bloody bowling ball, shot off the edge of the roof and SMACKED ME IN THE EYE! (and yes, I DO have a slight black eye developing nicely although I may just have to enhance it a little with make up to get a suitable sympathy vote from SD ...)

Soon after that we decided to pack up ...

Before we put the ladder away I asked SD to take a photo of me up the ladder (just so that I could pretend on FB that I was the one risking life and limb for the 'drupe fruit of the subgenus Prunus of the genus Prunus' )

Now I just had TWO stipulations for him:

'Don't make me look fat and don't make me look ugly'

He failed abysmally on both counts so no photo I'm afraid but I WAS up a ladder, HONEST!!

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Thirteen years ago today when the world was still reeling from the events of 9/11 my family was rocked by it's own personal tragedy.

I wrote this post about the day before it happened, a day that we had all spent together with my children as a tribute to a gentle man who remains in our hearts and our thoughts always.

Mario was my brother in law, he died aged 45 very suddenly from a heart attack due to a heart disease he didn't even know he had.

My sister, his wife was 6 months pregnant with their very much wanted first child.

His daughter will been a teenager in a few short months. A beautiful, bright, loving girl and it breaks my heart that she will never know this very special man other than through our memories.

I Remember Mario

I remember the look of pride and sheer joy in his eyes as he placed his hand on her swollen stomach. ‘My little Piranha’ he said.

They smiled at the private joke, sharing a moment of complete happiness amid the chaos and noise of a family get together.

The plate of food lay forgotten on the table as he crouched down to talk to the young boy playing with his Action Man

.

Seeing her brother being paid so much attention caused the little girl to forget her shyness of this big man with the big voice. She toddled towards him and gently touched his face, ‘kiss’ she said as she lent forward and placed her lips where her fingers had been.

He looked at me and smiled. ‘This is what it’s all about’ he said without words, ‘this is who I was meant to be’.

When the phone call came early the next morning it made no sense at all. Years have passed and it still makes no sense.

He never met his beautiful girl. She didn’t get to kiss his cheek.

But while she may not have her own memories, as long as I remember, she will have mine.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Every now and then I feel the need for a bit of light relief and that's when I turn to some old blog posts and have a bit of a reminisce.I've probably re-posted this one before but reading it and remembering that day gave me exactly what I needed today so, if you are feeling a bit down today for no particular reason then feel free to have a laugh at my expense:Things YOU Wouldn't DoYesterday after a conversation with a friend, I suggested that my next blog post could be something along the lines of the things I've done that normal people probably wouldn't.

When he said 'That would be an incredibly long blog post ....' I have to admit to being slightly affronted!

Bloody cheek!

How dare he.

How dare he be so ...

So ...

SO. ...

RIGHT!

I'm FULL of great ideas.

That's why Thursday evening found me straddling a sheep as it repeatedly smacked the crap out of my face with it's bony little head.

Remember I told you a couple of weeks ago that we were going to get a cute little lambykin to keep the goat company?

Not only had that cute little sucker almost doubled in size in the last two weeks - she is now slightly bigger than my dog Gus and twice his weight but she had also been out in the field and suddenly wasn't quite so people friendly. Added to which she was extremely pissed off at having her ears tagged that morning.

A couple of weeks ago when she had been cute and cuddly and tried climbing out of the pen so I could scratch her behind the ears it had all seemed like such a doddle. She was going to sit on my lap on the way to the farm while I told her tales of how lovely life was going to be as she frolicked in the paddock with her soon to be big sis the nanny goat.

Cue reality check!!

I got into the back of the van and opened my arms for a woolly little bundle of fluffiness and Will (who's bastard sheep it was) heaved this thrashing mass of pissed off mutton with flailing legs into my arms.

WHAAAH!!!

I grabbed a hank of oily wool in each hand and looked into it's mean little eyes - 'GET OFF MY FUCKING FOOT YOU BASTARD' I crooned lovely in it's fluffy little ear.

Will (the bastard) had been watching all this with great amusement eventually stepped in and said 'try this' as he whipped her head around to the side and appeared to almost insert it up her rectum.

I tried it.

She headbutted me.

'Ok, try THIS' he said not even trying to control his mirth and he picked up one of her legs and held it under her belly.

I tried it.

She headbutted me.

'Hang on' said Will and he disappeared for a couple of minutes and returned with a paper feed sack.

He popped it over her head and half her body.

'That should calm her down he said'.

Phew!!!

Then she headbutted me.

Next followed the longest 20 minutes of my entire life as we drove to the farm.

I was hanging off my seat with my legs clamped around her fat little belly. One hand gripping her wool so tightly my hand still hurts, the other holding the bag over her head as she shouted really loudly in my ear and smacked me in the face every couple of seconds.

SD of course thought I was making a fuss about nothing!!

Ive no idea what the people in the car that pulled up beside us at the lights thought but I could see them all looking on in opened mouthed horror at this screaming harpy in the back of a van who appeared to be riding a large thrashing, paper bag as it bleating frantically and she shouted 'keep still you little fucker unless you want me to shove your head right back up you arse again!'

Now I haven't officially been nominated to do this but Ms Mystery Case says it's ok to nominate yourself (and I have been known to do that from time to time ...) and as I liked the questions and don't have much of a blog post in the offing at the moment I thought I'd jump in and give it a go.

These are the five questions and my answers:

1. How long have you been blogging and why did you start?

I published my very first blog post on the 1st April 2011, the irony of it being Aprils Fools day doesn't escape me ...

My blog started life as a diary on a dating website, it added a bit of fun to the 'serious' nature of dating and led to my making some really good friends who I still keep in touch with.

I've had so much fun and made so many friends that although I'm a little flaky with my blogging from time to time it really has become a part of who I am and I can't imagine not doing it.

2. If your wardrobe could talk what would it say about you and tell us about your favourite or most worn item?

My wardrobe would without a doubt say:

'What did you do with the rest of it???'

I'm a real sucker for the sun and spend all summer in shorts and vest tops but I also love my little summer dresses. It's debatable at time whether I'm actually wearing a dress or if in fact it's really just a long top but I rarely let that stop me.

Today I'm wearing this dress, one of my summer favourites

Miss Mac is 15 and often disapproves of my dress sense which I'm taking as a positive thing!

My all time favourite item of clothing has to be my New Rock boots. Mine are fairly tame compared to many of their styles but I just love them and wear them with everything in the winter from jeans to floaty dresses for that post punk depressionist look.

These are them - aren't they fantastic!

3. What's your idea of the perfect date night?

That's an easy one because I had it just a few weeks ago. SD and I packed up the van and headed for Burton Bradstock on the Dorset coast. We stayed on a tiny camp site in the middle of nowhere and walked to the village pub for dinner. After dinner we strolled down to Hive beach and sat drinking coffee as we watched the sun go down:

How amazing is this?

For me it was THE perfect date night.

4. What's on your Worth Casing list?

Hmmm, well, a week or so ago a very good friend of mine tagged me in a 'pay it forward' meme. Basically what you do is send a little something to five of your friends who post 'I'm in' on your pay it forward status. It doesn't have to be something expensive, it could just be a postcard but I've decided that as I have the odd moment of craftiness that I'm going to make a little something for 5 of my friends.

They will all get some home made bunting from me

like this

But it will be personalised in a very special way to say something about them and their personality so at the moment I'm busy stalking them all trying to get some ideas (I can't say any more than that just now in case one of them reads this but I will post the end results at some point)

5. If you had a theme song what would it be and why?

I though long and hard about this, after all, a theme song is a pretty important statement to make about yourself.

Anyone that knows me knows I'm a little scatty, prone to making an arse of myself, have a tendency to speak and act before I think and spend a lot of time being distracted by shiny things.

In the end it was no contest, there really IS only one man with one song that can really sum me up, this pretty much (with a few tweaks) is the song of my life:

The final piece of this is to nominate 5 other bloggers to do the five in five challenge and so, in no particular order:

Thursday, 4 September 2014

It's been over a year since I stopped being ignored on there and the lovely Kate left a message on this post confirming what I'd suspected just might be true.

Sometimes, I AM a little bit funny!!

I do wonder sometimes. I mean, I OFTEN say stuff that I think is hilarious but there are times that I feel slightly unappreciated.

I'll say something really witty to SD and then pause .... No reaction, he just carries on with whatever 'very important' job he's doing. I'll give him a moment just in case he's ruminating my total genius and then I'll repeat it ... Still nothing or, even worse, he'll hurrumph and then just carry on ...

'Did you hear what I said?'

'Mmmm ...'

'Don't you think it was funny??'

'Hurrumph ....'

'WTF does HURRUMPH mean .... ???'

'Was I funny ... did you do a SILENT chortle ... I need you to laugh out loud ... show some facial expression ... collapse in a writhing heap of hysterical mirth or SOMETHING!!!'

SD sighs and carries on with the 'very important' job.

I am deflated ... distraught and downcast ...

I am reminded of the time when I convinced myself that I was slightly mad and 6 out of 8 of my friends agreed except in this case it seems that SD does NOT agree with me and in fact I'm not a bit funny (although he may think I'm slightly mad ...).

I ask him what he DOES see in me then.

'Well' he said, 'you make a fantastic crumble ....'

'AND?'

'Your cakes are great too'

'AND??'

'You've got .... pretty good legs ...??'

I point out that that sounds more like a question than a statement from a man who knows he's sinking fast not to mention that apparently my crumble is fantastic, my cakes are great but my legs only score a 'pretty good' and my personality doesn't even get a mention!

So anyway, I'm going to go and be unappreciated by a more discerning audience for a while, if you want to see what SD's missing then you can find me here.

Wednesday, 3 September 2014

This time last week I was in one of the most beautiful places in England and, in my opinion, possibly one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I'm so fortunate living in Somerset, I'm surrounded by gorgeous countryside and stunning coastlines but my heart lifts just a little every time I cross the border into Cornwall.

This post is about our holiday but it's also for Holly who, although she now lives in Canada, spent much of her childhood not far from where we were.

Here's a little reminder for you Holly:

Originally we had planned to start our holiday on the Bank Holiday Monday, travelling down mid afternoon in the hope that most of the traffic would be north bound but, as in the way of the English Bank Holiday the forecast was dire so we postponed for a day and set off late morning on Tuesday.

The weather was GLORIOUS and the closer we got to Cornwall the better it was.

We stayed on the same campsite as last year. If you want to read about last years holiday, how Miss Mac broke my nose, how I got my revenge by dying her blue, vegetarian road kill and learn a little Cornish dialect then take a look here and here.

This year Miss Mac brought a friend with her. The part of Cornwall we stayed in is fairly remote and the campsite, although beautifully maintained and in a gorgeous setting is basic (which is why we chose it). There is no club house, pool, evening entertainment and there is no WiFi so it only seemed fair that she had some company other than us.

We set up camp fairly quickly wanting to make the most of the day and then headed down to Porth Curnow beach. The walk from the carpark to the beach takes you down a winding lane past beautiful houses and this:

Gunnera manicata or giant rhubarb

This is one freaky looking plant! Bear in mind that I'm 6ft tall and this stuff towered above me. Some of the leaves are 4ft across and the giant spiky flowers that look like something out of a twisted fairytale are 2/3ft long.

Part way down the path SD and I detoured to the right and, rather than taking the path to the beach we headed for the cliff path and the Minack Theatre.

The Minack is an open air theatre set in the cliff, you can read a little of it's fascinating history here. There was a performance on that evening with several hundred people queueing at the top to get in so unfortunately we couldn't go for a wander around this time but here are some photos taken on the way up:

Me trying not to look terrified (although I am a complete woose when it comes to heights!)

And again with Porth Curnow beach in the background

It was a beautiful evening and we ended it eating dinner outside at the Cable Station. Porth Curnow itself also has a fascinating history, as a major submarine communications station (hence the name of the pub). You can read about it here if you are interested.

Our second day was spent in Penzance, preplanned as the forecast had been for cloud and showers. In the end the weather wasn't too bad and we had a lovely day wandering the streets and drinking coffee in a great little cafe that couldn't seem to decide if it were Hungarian, French, Dutch or Cornish. On the menu was traditional Cornish cream teas, breakfasts of croissants, goulash soup and the most amazing looking French pastries run by a lovely Dutch couple.

I'd given Miss Mac some spending money and sent her off with her friend to do their own thing. Miss Mac's favourite purchase of the day?

A loaf of white bread!

She's always complaining that I only buy wholemeal or seeded bread so she bought her own.

The following day we woke up to wall to wall sunshine. SD and I headed left on the cliff path to Lamorna while Miss Mac and friend headed right back to Porth Curnow. To be honest, I really didn't expect them to make it the whole way there. It's only about 4 miles but anyone who's ever walked the cliff paths of Cornwall knows that distance means nothing on that kind of terrain. Miss Mac had walked it with us last year but I was worried that she had forgotten just how hard it was. In the event I had misjudged them and they DID make it all the way calling in at several coves on the way and then they got the open top bus back to the top road and walked the last mile back to camp.

I've been to Lamorna before but I've never walked the cliff path there, it was BREATHTAKING!

Look!:

High up on the cliff - we had walked from the second furthest point you can see and still had a way to go.

One side of Lamorna - it's impossible to photograph the whole thing in one shot as the bay is almost U shaped.

We sat and drank coffee for a while and then headed back via the road and bridle path, a much shorter and easier route.

The path took us past the Merry Maidens, a circle of standing stones that are almost as well known as Stonehenge and, just past them we came across this new and very odd garden. It's a beautiful walled garden in the middle of nowhere with no house attached to it. I've no idea why it's there, it wasn't last year and there is no sign of any building work but someone has spent a lot of time making this garden.

Friday was our last day and we packed up camp and headed for Sennen. This beach is MASSIVE and well known for surfing.

But there's so much more to see at Sennen:

It's still has a small but active fishing community

The Roundhouse and Capstan gallery

Lovely old cottages many of which are holiday lets.

Possibly the only downside to Sennen is the very steep walk back up to the carpark:

The perspective isn't great in this photo but those tiny dots on the right are people on the beach and the black square is actually quite a large building.

It all proved a little too much for these two and they finished the climb on their hands and knees!

We had, as ever, SUCH a good time in Cornwall. If the weather holds (and I here tell of an Indian Summer!) then we will try to get one more weekend down there camping this year or, failing that, head for Newquay in the October half term and stay in a B&B.

So, that was just a part of my Summer, so much else has been going on and hopefully I will find some time to tell you about it.

Poor old Gussy has an embarrassing problem - actually, he has an embarrassing EXPENSIVE problem!

Gus has an allergy to fleas - I know, SERIOUSLY??? Aren't fleas a right of passage or something for dogs?

Taking of passages, I think he possibly needs his anal glands evacuating again too, deep joy! Last time the vet did it he kindly showed me all the 'crap' he'd managed to extract - as I urged and nearly threw up on him I'm hoping it's not something he'll ever try to repeat!

Anyway, I've been on holiday!!! That's another post or two but before I went I bathed and deflead Gus and then sent him off on his own little hols with Grandma and Grampa (aka SD parents). Gus spends a couple of days a week with them, kind of like canine timeshare and he LOVES it!!

Grandma cooks him fish fingers and shares a rich tea biscuits with him for elevenses and Grandpa takes him hunting and wood chopping and all kinds of exciting boy stuff.

When I picked him up he was feeling a bit sorry for himself (and several pounds heavier too!). Despite my best efforts he had fleas and has gnawed his bum raw pulling out quite a lot of hair in the process so we are taking a trip to the vets this evening where they will probably give him a flea jab and a course of anti inflammatorys to settle things down and I'll get a huge bill ... lovely ...

I've got SUCH a lot of catching up to do! It feels like I've hardly been here for weeks blogging or commenting (which is possibly because I haven't!).

Earlier in the holidays SD took me to Welsh Wales - I don't know why I always feel the need to specify that Wales is Welsh but I do. I mean, it's like a whole other country isn't it (ok, technically it IS a whole other country I KNOW that) but it's like they don't talk English or something ...

Even the ones who DO talk English are completely unfathomable, I seriously can't get my head around the accent and understand what they are saying to me, I just look at them blankly and then look at SD for translation. I have NO IDEA if they ARE actually taking English or if it's Welsh.

To add to my misery SD insisted that I map read. SD refuses to have a Sat Nav along with not having a mobile phone ('why can't people just make arrangements and keep to them ...') and prefers to print out directions and maps of where he is going.

Well that's fine except that I'm CRAP at map reading and he KNOWS that.

I warn him that it'll all end in tears, tantrums and maps being thrown on the floor. He KNOWS that he will have to pull over every few miles, turn the map up the right way and work out where I've sent him and yet he PERSISTS in this torture!!

I'm also hopeless at spotting road signs until after we have sailed past them.

'Look for the A4567' he says, 'we need to turn left there, take the 3rd exit off the roundabout and bear right onto the B1234 for 1/2 a mile before taking the A9384 for 2 miles heading east and then right at the junction of the B4847 and B9474'.

'What? WHAT???'

I have No bloody idea WHAT he is talking about!

To cap it all they have gone Welsh bloody mad in Welsh Wales and everything is written in both English and Welsh.